#6.17.21

“You agreed?” Kyouka all but shouts into the phone. Despite her over-the-top reaction, Shouto’s still not sure who is more surprised out of the two of them.

“I didn’t exactly agree. I just didn’t…say no.” Even as he says it, Shouto is aware that from him that is basically an agreement. God what was he getting himself into?

Kyouka is talking rapidly but he’s not entirely sure that she’s talking to him. The range of emotions she seems to be going through is impressive, though. Finally, she takes a deep breath and asks, “You’re going to talk about your family?”

Shouto sinks to the ground outside the building and leans against a tree. He hasn’t put back any of his “protective” civilian clothing and there’s a good chance of him being seen by more students, but he doesn’t have the energy to move again just yet.

“He didn’t ask me to talk about my family,” he finally admits. It’s stupid, he doesn’t even care about this kind of thing, but it wasn’t until he said it out loud that he realized how relieved he is that someone wants to talk about something – anything - other than that. “He wants me to talk about my quirk.”

They sit in silence together for a few moments. Shouto can hear the muffled sound of Momo talking to Kyouka in the background, likely asking what the hell was going on. Kyouka doesn’t seem to know what to say about this revelation, or the breathless way Shouto is talking about it, so she settles with, “So I guess he’s not a fame-hungry douchebag?”

The idea of Kyouka calling the bright-eyed, bushy-tailed professor that almost makes Shouto smile – almost. “No, I don’t think he is.”

“Huh,” Kyouka sounds almost as surprised as he is. “So, this is good, right? That you agreed?”

“Uh, I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

Kyouka snorts, but at least she sounds more like herself and not as off-kilter as he still feels. “Think you’ll know by Friday? Momo wants you to come over for dinner.”

Shouto shakes his head. “I doubt it but, sure. Thanks.”

“Good luck, Todoroki.”

They end the call with promises to try to talk down Momo from the interrogation she’s probably already planning (from Kyouka) and the chocolate cake from Sato’s bakery for dessert on Friday (from Shouto).

 X

Shouto wouldn’t say he was waiting for the professor’s email, but after the third comment on his surprisingly frequent use of the phone, he forces himself to push the meeting from the previous day from his mind and focus on work. He and Momo started their agency in Musutafu together a few years ago, and as the only senior-hero in the office for the night, he needed to set a good example. Especially when Monarch, a sidekick who had followed him when he left Gang Orca’s agency to start on his own, was in the office too, and had no qualms about tattling on his weird behavior to Momo.

At least the others were still a little too intimidated to cross him, though he had a feeling he could only rely on that hero-worship for a little while longer. There were only so many times you could watch someone put their hero-suit on backwards or accidentally salt their coffee before you stopped fearing standing up to them.

Most of the night is rather easy after pushing the email from his mind. Patrols are pretty much standard. The lack of activity means most everyone who was in for the night could relax, or make a good dent in any paperwork or reports piling up after busier days.

Until the alert for a villain attack comes in.

Shouto rushes out at the first alert, accompanied by one of their newest sidekicks, Sunspot, but by the time they reach the site of the attack, the radio is a flurry of activity, and his pager from the agency beeped with at least three more alerts.

Downtown is a disaster area. The evening traffic is backed up for miles, and cars in the few blocks closest to the fight have all been abandoned. At least one building is already rubble, and two more look on the brink of falling.

“This is Entropy, where-” before Shouto can finish his offer of help, he recognizes Chargebolt’s voice cutting through the chatter.

One of the villains is headed towards the Rainbow bridge! he yells over the radio. He has a hostage!

Shouto takes off towards the bridge before he has even finished speaking, throwing an order for Sunspot to rendezvous with the paramedics gathering on the fringes to help with the injured as he leaves.

“What’s the quirk?” He asks, aware even as he does that he might have to go into the fight blind.

There are three! What are you talking about? Someone he doesn’t recognize snaps over the line.

Entropy, thank God, Ingenium’s voice drowns out the cursing. It’s hard to isolate them, they’ve been working in tandem but the one headed towards the bridge seems to be able to melt things – organic and inorganic material both. Be careful.

The bridge comes into view, and there is the fleeing villain, zipping unencumbered through the streets on what almost looks like lava, bubbling and expanding under their feet.

Shouto throws up a wall of ice a few feet away. It won’t stop them, especially if it is lava under them, but it could slow them down at least for a moment. He doesn’t see the hostage Chargebolt had mentioned until he gets closer. It is a terrified looking child, bundled against the villain’s chest, wrapped in some kind of bindings that keep it from fighting the hold or screaming for help. The bindings look sickeningly like Aizawa-sensei’s old capture weapon and if it is even a little similar, Shouto knew there was no way the child would be able to get out on their own.

“Stop!” Shouto calls, throwing up more ice. He blocks the villain in on all sides, but the bottom of the ice is already beginning to melt before he has all the walls up.

The villain finally looks up to where Shouto stands on the top of one of his melting blocks of ice. Their face is covered by a traditional kabuki mask, and when they laugh the familiar robotic sound tells him they are using a voice modulator.

“Entropy! This ice won’t hold me forever!”

It doesn’t have to be forever, Shouto thinks, reinforcing the bottom of the ice, just long enough for backup to arrive. Normally he could encase the villain in ice, limit their movements just in case and, if he was lucky, cool them off enough that they couldn’t melt it fast enough – assuming their quirk was even heat based – but he doesn’t have enough information now, and there is too much of a risk with the child hostage involved. He hates fights like this. He’d never been good at trying to negotiate with villains, and there was too much risk for his usual long-range fighting style.

He has an idea, but it is a risk. It is a dumb risk. And he prays if he dies down there Momo isn’t actually powerful enough to somehow revive him just to kill him again for his stupidity. But he jumps off the ice, landing a few feet from the villain. He sinks a few inches into the goop surrounding them. It helps absorb some of the shock of his landing, but already he can feel the oppressive heat rising from the ground. His boots are steaming a little, but so far, the heat protected material is holding up. Hopefully it will be enough.

The closer he gets to the villain the hotter the air becomes, and he can feel his right side trying to help regulate his body temperature.

“Give me the child,” He demands. “They shouldn’t be a part of this.”

The villain laughs again, but their voice comes out more muffled and sluggish than before. He has a feeling whatever support equipment they were using hadn’t been designed to withstand this kind of heat for so long.

“That’s what you don’t understand, hero. They are the reason for this!”

Shouto tries to look reassuring as the small child stares pleadingly at him, muffled cries coming from behind their bindings, though he isn’t sure if he is successful.

“What are you talking about?”

“They’re the key!” The villain yells, squeezing the child closer to their body, and Shouto hates to see the way they squirm uncomfortably. “A hero like you with a perfect quirk could never understand! Though I suppose, even you aren’t invincible, are you?” The villain swipes at their mask with their free hand, leaving a dark, sooty handprint over the left eye-slit of their mask. “How much heat can you really withstand?”

Shouto ducks out of the way just as the villain sends up a wave of melted material where he had been standing seconds before. The ice wall behind him sizzles at the contact, melting away a perfect person-sized opening.

Shouto holds up a hand, ready to throw up more ice before the villain can break through the weakened wall, when from the other side Ingenium and Mr. Smith burst through. Shouto propels himself upwards with ice, grabbing Ingenium at the last moment as Mr. Smith hardens the melted material around them, trapping the villain’s feet in the stiffened rock. Shouto drops them both back down and Ingenium shoots off towards the villain. Ingenium throws a punch, and hand-to-hand combat might not be his strongest selling point as a hero, but the villain is already at a disadvantage trying to hold onto the child. At least with the confirmation that they had kidnapped them intentionally, rather than just as leverage or protection, it meant they were less likely to do something that would hurt the child.

The rock around the villain’s feet is already beginning to melt again, but Shouto wraps ice around their legs, keeping them immobile enough for Mr. Smith to catch up, stiffening the villain’s shirt as they lift an arm to defend against Ingenium. They wave their hand uselessly, unable to move their arms much more in the cast around them. Shouto reaches for the child, carefully wiggling them out from the villain’s trapped arm. They catch his arm as he extracts the child, however, and his shout of pain is drowned out only by the villain’s own anguished scream.

“This isn’t over,” they promise. And then their entire body begins to melt. The three heroes reach for them, but Mr. Smith and Ingenium’s gloves catch on fire before they even make contact with the melting body. Shouto’s ice is absorbed into the goopy mess and in a few seconds, it was as if the villain had never been standing there at all.

“Shit,” Mr. Smith swears. He glances over at the child in Shouto’s arms and winces. “Sorry.”

Shouto nods to him, agreeing with the sentiment regardless, before taking a few steps away. He cradles the child close to his chest, wishing she didn’t feel so small, wishing there was something he could do about the way she trembled.

“You’re going to be okay,” he says softly, shifting her in his arms. He tests the bindings around her torso, but they don’t give. “You’re safe, and we’re going to get you out of this.”

“I can help.”

Shouto looks up at the new voice. A hero, presumably, stands before him, but he doesn’t recognize the newcomer. Their face is covered by a dark helmet, tinted glass hiding even their eyes. Their costume is a simple dark green bodysuit, but a tool belt at their waist boasts a truly impressive number of gadgets.

Shouto holds the girl closer to his body and looks the other person over. The other hero seems to understand his hesitance and reaches for something in their tool belt. Shouto shifts his weight, prepared to run if this interaction turns sour.

“Architect!” Ingenium calls, running up besides them. “I didn’t realize you were working.”

The stranger, Architect apparently, nods a greeting to Ingenium. “I was at the hospital checking on something when the attacks started so I came out to see if I could help.” He turns back to Shouto. “I was just about to introduce myself to Entropy so I could help with the bindings.”

“Architect is part of the support team at All Might-er, Lemillion’s agency,” Ingenium explains to Shouto. “He’s a friend.”

Architect produces a small pair of scissors from his tool belt. The blades are jagged and look dangerous, but he handles them carefully, finding a space away from any exposed skin.

“This will be a little uncomfortable,” he tells the young girl in a gentle voice. “But it will be over in a flash.”

The scissors don’t seem to actually cut through the bindings, but the jagged blades get caught in the rough fabric, pulling at it tightly as he moves them. The girl twists in Shouto’s arm with a quiet whimper, but a moment later the bindings seize and then loosen, dropping harmlessly from her body.

Shouto lowers her to the ground carefully and Architect crouches to be at eye-level with her.

“How are you feeling, Kou? Are you hurt anywhere?”

The girl shakes her head, staring at Architect with wide eyes. “How do you know my name?” she whispers, awed. Shouto would like to know that too, but Ingenium doesn’t seem at all surprised by the development, so he wills himself to let it go for now.

Architect tilts his head, and though he can’t see, Shouto suspects he’s looking at him. “Entropy told me,” he lies cheerfully. “He knows the name of all his fans.”

Kou whips around to stare at Shouto. “Really?”

“Ah…yes?”

“Wow.”

Architect and Ingenium both seem amused by the child’s awe. “I bet if you’re good and go with the heroes to get checked over by the doctors, Entropy might even give you an autograph for being so brave.”

Kou’s face scrunches up in displeasure, and Shouto doesn’t really blame her, but a moment later she reluctantly agrees. Architect stands up, waving to someone through the melting ice and a few more heroes come through, accompanied by two paramedics carrying a stretcher.

A moment later two detectives come through the ice as well, and Shouto is pulled into giving a report of what happened while he was alone with the villain and if he noticed anything distinctive about the villain’s appearance or quirk that could help track them down. When he’s finally done going over everything, Kou, the paramedics, and Architect are gone. Ingenium and Mr. Smith head back to where the fight began but Shouto stays behind to melt down what’s left of his ice first with a few other heroes with heat-based quirks, including Sunspot.

Once that’s taken care of, they head back. Sunspot gives him a rundown of the intel she gathered working closer to the main fight. One of the villains was mostly contained when the other two spilt up, the one with the child presumably looking for an escape while the other went deeper into town, ricocheting off buildings and bridges with some kind of body-hardening quirk that kept heroes preoccupied trying to minimalize damage and protect civilians from toppling structures. They have since been contained, however. From the discussion on the radios, rescue and clean-up teams have already started to move in.

Near where they first joined the fight, there is a circle of ambulances, back doors flung open while paramedics check on civilians and heroes alike. Shouto scans the area for Kou. He finally sees her perched in the back of an ambulance, talking animatedly with someone crouched on the ground in front of her.  She sees him as he’s making his way over and waves excitedly. There are red marks crisscrossing her arms from where the bindings were too tight and tear tracts on her rosy cheeks, but she doesn’t seem so bothered by either any more. Shouto waves back.

The person in front of Kou stands as Shouto approaches and turns to him with a smile.

“Entropy,” Dr. Midoriya says in greeting. “Kou was just telling me all about your daring rescue.”

“Dr. Midoriya…” Shouto doesn’t stumble as he comes to a stop near them, but it’s a near thing. He leans against one of the open ambulance doors in (faked) nonchalance. “I didn’t realize you would be here.”

Kou reaches out and tugs on Dr. Midoriya’s sleeve. “See!” She exclaims in a barely contained whisper to the professor. “I told you he’d know who you were! The other hero said he knows the names of all his fans!”

Shouto is pleasantly surprised at the bright blush that comes over the professor’s face at Kou’s whispering. He runs a hand through his hair, riling up the wild curls at the top even more and glances quickly at Shouto out of the corner of his eye. He looks away just as quickly with a nervous laugh.

“Well now, Kou, weren’t you also telling me something about wanting an autograph?” Dr. Midoriya asks, changing the subject easily.

Kou sticks her tongue out at him, but turns to Shouto a moment later with a suddenly shy look. “Um…Entropy,” she starts, his hero name coming out a little muddled as she stumbles over the word.

Remembering Architect’s promise to her, Shouto starts to reach for the notepad he keeps in his tool belt before she can even finish her question but his arm bumps into the ambulance door. The contact immediately sends a searing pain through his arm. With a hiss, and just barely swallowed curse, he pulls his arm in close. Based on their gasps, Kou and Dr. Midoriya see the injury just before he does. Part of his uniform sleeve is melted. Gaping, burnt holes in the fabric reveal splotchy, disfigured skin underneath – a burn. Made all the worse by the deep blue fabric that melted into the open sore. Shouto faintly remembers the villain touching his arm just as he rescued Kou and a flash of sharp pain, but somehow he blocked it out afterwards, so focused on keeping her safe.

Now with the throbbing, searing pain at the forefront of his mind, the fact that he went this long without noticing it feels unreal.

“Sit down,” Dr. Midoriya orders suddenly, pushing Shouto to take a seat in the back of the ambulance next to Kou. “Adrenaline must have blocked the pain, but you’re going to go into shock if we don’t take care of this.”

Behind the pain, Shouto faintly registers the change in the professor’s voice as he orders Shouto around and calls for some first aid supplies to the nearby paramedics. It reminds him of the sudden way he changed in his office the other day, when Shouto mentioned his family. The cheerful, bemusing professor replaced by a no-nonsense professional.

Dr. Midoriya cuts away what’s left of his sleeve, examining the wound closely. All the while giving directions to the paramedics and talking Shouto through a shot of painkillers and the start of an IV. Shouto and Kou are ushered into the ambulance, Dr. Midoriya and another paramedic climbing in after them. In a moment they are on the move.

“The burn needs to be cleaned in a more sterile environment,” Dr. Midoriya says, though Shouto isn’t sure if he’s saying this for his benefit or Kou’s. Shouto is no stranger to the care of significant burns. Kou however is watching both of them with a nervous, teary-eyed expression from where she’s sat on the paramedic’s lap. “The painkillers should kick in soon, which will help. And the IV will help with dehydration.”

Dr. Midoriya pulls out his cell phone, still in a bright All Might case, immediately tapping away at something on the screen. “You were on the scene with a sidekick from your agency, right? Sunspot, the UV hero?”

Shouto blinks in surprise a few times before he remembers the professor’s notebooks. He nods. “How many pages of notes do you have on her?”

Dr. Midoriya gives him an incredulous look, but Shouto doesn’t know what the big deal is. With the heavy-duty pain killers they gave him, he really doesn’t know what the rush is, or the harm in a few questions.

“Just one. Well, one and a half.” Dr. Midoriya finally answers, going back to typing rapidly on his phone. “She’s still new, I haven’t had time to observe her fighting enough to gather more information.”

Shouto will one hundred percent blame it on the drugs later, but a laugh bubbles out of him despite everything at the professor’s petulant tone. “You are something else, Dr. Midoriya.” Shouto starts to sit up, but Dr. Midoriya stops him with a firm, but gentle, hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down. He gestures to himself instead, with his uninjured arm. “How did you even know how to do all this? I thought the doctor in your name was for a Ph.D., not M.D.”

The paramedic chuckles from the corner of the ambulance. “He didn’t mention? It’s both. His quirk research is not limited to just academia and theory.”

“What?”

“None of us have been able to figure out how he did it either, don’t worry.” The paramedic adds cheerfully.

Dr. Midoriya stumbles over his words for a few moments, carefully avoiding Shouto’s surprised look, before he settles on scolding the paramedic for “distracting the patient” and changes the subject.

Dear Pro-Hero Entropy,

On behalf of Musutafu University, I would like to cordially invite you to be a speaker in our first annual Hero Talks series. We anticipate university students, as well as members of the public from all walks of life, will be interested in hearing from 10 different pro-heroes, over the course of ten-weeks between September and November, as they discuss their experience in the hero industry, the details of their jobs, and the unique quirks they’ve encountered or that helped them in becoming the heroes of today.

I would be extremely grateful if you were willing to share your expertise and be a part of the series. You would be an excellent addition to our program, and our line-up of great heroes that already includes current number one, Pro-Hero Lemillion, the Permeation Hero, and the well-respected, Youthful Heroine Recovery Girl.

Please do not hesitate to contact me if you have any questions. I look forward to hearing from you!

X 

“I think you should do it.”

Shouto pauses with his cup half-way to his mouth as the silence that had fallen over them is finally broken. Momo primly takes a sip of her tea, pointedly avoiding his astonished look.

“…What?”

Momo clears her throat, placing her teacup back on the table and sitting up, somehow, straighter in her chair. Despite the fact that they are in her home, she looks decidedly more uncomfortable than he feels, even by the bizarre direction of their conversation. “I think you should do it. I think it would be a good opportunity for you, Shouto.”

“Have you met me?” he asks incredulously. “There’s nothing ‘good’ about anything that includes me and talking.”

His phone, with the offending email still pulled up on the darkening screen, sits on the table between them. He doesn’t realize he is glaring at it until Momo plucks it up and away from his line of sight. Waking up the screen, she reads over the email again. He doesn’t know why she bothers – they must have poured over it together at least three or four times when he first arrived, dumbfounded by yet another invitation and nearly laughing over the ridiculous concept of him giving a talk on a college campus.

“It’s not like you would have to wing it, it’s still only April now, so the series won’t be taking place until the second term. You would have time to come up with a topic, write a speech, prepare.”

“No one wants to listen to me read from a piece of paper for an hour,” he replies drolly. “And I don’t have anything to talk about that long, anyways.”

It is her turn to stare at him incredulously from across the table. He resists the urge to squirm under the disbelieving look. Finally, Momo sighs, returning his phone to the table.

“I think you underestimate what people would be willing to listen to,” she clears her throat. “You have a unique perspective on the hero industry that very few have, or get to hear about-”

“Because my dad was a dick?”

“Due to being raised by a hero," she continues on, as if he hadn't spoken. "And not just any hero, but someone who was the number two hero for a very long time, and even briefly the number one hero. Very few heroes nowadays have children, and even fewer have children who go on to follow in their footsteps. You’re a legacy.”

“I’m the only one of any of Endeavor’s kids to become a hero. If they wanted to hear about hero family legacies, they should have contacted Iida.”

Momo sighs, rubbing her temples. He’s noticed her doing that around him with increasing frequency these days. “Well I believe they did, actually. And he agreed.”

Shouto leans back in his seat. “Then he can talk all about being a legacy. What would they need to hear from me for?”

Momo is quiet for a very long time. “…Well-”

“No.”

“You brought it up.”

“Not seriously. I’m not going to talk about that.”

“It was just a suggestion. You, your family, have kept things remarkably quiet after it all went down, and I understand wanting to protect your privacy, considering it really is none of their business, but people are always going to have questions. It’s been years since the trial and the media still asks you every year. At least this way, if you talked about it, you could control the narrative.”

Shouto looks away. The setting sun is just out of sight from the dining room window, but it paints the neighbor’s house and the trees along the road a warm orange. The anniversary of the trial, of his father’s fall from grace in the public eye was just a few weeks away, still looming over him, even years after the fact. He has no interest in ‘controlling the narrative.’ He’d rather not think about it at all, actually. But just like every year before, as the date grew closer, the media got more frantic, more invasive.

You would think after more than ten years of radio silence from the Todoroki family they would finally get discouraged, and yet…

Sensing he wasn’t interested in pursuing this topic of conversation any longer, Momo changes tactics, carefully pulling his thoughts from a dangerous spiral. “Or you could have a meeting with the person who invited you. See what topic they had in mind for you.”

Shouto glances at her. “What are you talking about?”

“Well they didn’t just mass invite heroes, the invitations have only gone out to a select few. I’m assuming the coordinator had some idea of what they thought those particular heroes would talk about.” There is a quiet click of her nails against the glass table top as she picks up his phone once more. “You could set up a meeting with him and see what he had in mind. If the topic is something you’re comfortable talking about, wonderful. If not, you can decline the invitation, and all you’ve wasted is an afternoon.”

Something clicks in his head and Shouto sits up again, an idea brewing. He turns his attention back to her. “I still don’t want to give a talk,”

“Shouto-”

“But you have a point. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

Momo smiles, but her brows shoot up, a clear indication of her surprise at – and her suspicion over – his quick surrender. “I’m…a little shocked you agree.”

“Well you’d just keep bothering me about it if I didn’t at least talk to him, wouldn’t you?” She glares at him but doesn’t refute the accusation. “But isn’t it just the dean of the school that sent the emails? He’s probably not the sole coordinator.”

“No,” She shakes her head, handing his phone back over. “It says here he’s a professor.”

 Midoriya Izuku, Ph.D.

Professor of Hero and Quirk Studies

Musutafu University

[email protected]

X

It takes two days after his talk with Momo for Shouto to get around to even opening the professor’s response to his request for a meeting.

Kyouka watches him suspiciously from where she’s draped over his office chair as he paces in front of his desk. “What’s wrong with you?”

She takes an obnoxious sip of her coffee. The smell has permeated the entire room and it makes something in his stomach curl with longing, but his doctor made it explicitly clear that he was to take an extended break from the drink after letting it serve as breakfast, lunch, and dinner a few too many days in a row. Something more painful than longing – perhaps an ulcer he may or may not have given himself from his liquid diet – twists his stomach.

“Why are you even here?”

Kyouka sighs at his question, her head lolling back as she sinks deeper into the chair. He’s not totally sure what she’s doing. He knows for a fact those chairs aren’t comfortable. His best attempt to keep people from staying in his office longer than absolutely necessary.

“Kyouka?”

She takes another sip of her coffee. He has absolutely no idea how she doesn’t spill it all over herself in that position.

“Momo asked me to talk to you.”

He stops pacing long enough to determine that she’s telling the truth. “…Why?”

“Because she doesn’t think you’ve emailed the professor back about that hero series yet.”

He glances at his computer. At the unread email blinking at the top of his inbox, taunting him. “I’m not saying she’s right…but why does she want you to talk to me about it?”

She swings her legs off the arm of the chair to sit up right and glare at him. “I resent the insinuation that I am not a great candidate for making you get your shit together. But,” she stands up, dropping her cup onto his desk and crossing her arms. Her expression is fierce, but he recognizes the barely-there flush high on her cheeks and the nervous twitch of her earphone jacks. “I was also invited to be a part of the series.”

Shouto stops, sinking into his desk chair. Invitations like this were usually a pain for him. For one, he hated public speaking – or even extended conversations. As one of the top students at U.A., however, and as the son of a well-known hero, he had been getting requests for talks and interviews and special features for years. Most of which he usually ignored, knowing what it was they wanted him to talk about. But he knows an invitation like this can be special. Especially for someone like Kyouka, who doesn’t have particularly strong connections with the hero industry, even after graduating U.A. Her parents’ reputation and her internship with Present Mic made her more of a celebrity in the music industry than a well-known hero, despite all the great work she did.

“Kyouka,” he says quietly, earnestly, so that she pays attention to him. “Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” she replies with a small smile, before her expression changes again. “But shut up, Todoroki. That’s not the point. Momo thinks you’ll be dragging your feet over getting back to the professor. But when she told me about how quickly you agreed, I got a feeling there was something else going on.” She braces her hands on his desk and leans into his personal space, jacks floating threateningly close to his throat. “You were gonna set up that meeting, and then just give him a hard time, weren’t you?”

Shouto freezes, caught. “Uh…”

It’s not exactly an admission, but Kyouka throws her head back and laughs, anyways. “I knew it. We’ve all been waiting for when you finally got fed up and picked a victim. I’m honestly surprised it’s taken this long.”

Shouto doesn’t mean for the quiet, astonished chuckle to slip out, but he supposes if it’s Kyouka, it’s alright. There’s a devilish glint in her eyes as she drops back into her chair.

“So,” she asks. “What are you waiting for?”

“You’re really not going to stop me?”

“We’re public figures, the media has never been interested in respecting our privacy, but we’ve all spent years watching you get hounded over your parents’ divorce and your father’s trial. If this is just another asshole trying to get a scoop, or recognition for finally getting you to spill, he deserves it. Everyone would agree. Well…Tenya and Momo might frown at your approach, but I still think they’d support the general idea. And well,” she shrugs. “If he is just an asshole, all the better for the rest of us to know now so we don’t support what he’s trying to do.”

He hesitates, mouse hovering over the professor’s email. “Are you sure?”

She scowls, though there isn’t any heat behind it. “If I wasn’t sure I wouldn’t say it.” She comes around the desk to stand behind him. “Now hurry up, I have a patrol to get to.”

Reaching down, she opens the email before he can react.

Thank you so much for your interest! Of course we can meet to discuss the details of the series more. Below are my office hours when I will be on the Musutafu University campus. If you are not available for any of those times, please let me know when would work best for you and we can plan a meeting then.

Kyouka leans over his shoulder to read the email.

“Tuesday’s your day off next week, right?”

Shouto rolls his eyes but opens a new draft to reply.

Kyouka grins. “Good boy. I will report your excellent behavior to Momo.” She ruffles his hair before heading for the door, grabbing her coffee cup off his desk as she goes.

“Fuck off.”

She tosses her head back and laughs again. “Give ‘em hell.”

X

They make plans to meet in a few days, when Shouto has some time off, and the professor forwards his office room number and three different maps of campus “just in case.” Which Shouto found ridiculous….at the time.

Now he’s here, and has been wandering around for God knows how long. It takes approximately ten minutes for Shouto to admit he’s lost, and another five minutes for him to get frustrated over still being lost. He wasn’t sure what to expect of the university campus, but, clearly, he did not prepare enough in advance. The large, sprawling buildings remind him of U.A.’s campus, but rather than extra training grounds, the spaces between are grassy plots filled with students relaxing under the shade of trees or soaking up the sun on blankets. Instead of practicing hand-to-hand, the students sit in clusters pouring over textbooks or typing away on laptops. And they, of course, all appear perfectly at home amongst the labyrinth of lecture halls.

The paved plaza in the middle of all the activity hosts a large fountain and a statue of a man with large, curling horns coming from his temples that Shouto assumes has some kind of importance to the school, but that he doesn’t recognize.

He forwent his hero-suit for jeans, a button-up, and a leather jacket – in addition to sunglasses, a mask, and a baseball cap. The clothing seemed to blend in well enough with the other students, if not a tad understated, but his distinct hair and scar are not so easily hidden and soon enough he notices students staring, following his movements back and forth across campus or whispering amongst themselves.

Eventually, a few brave students manage to catch him as he is trying to reorient himself. Again.

“Um, excuse me, are you pro-hero Entropy?” a girl asks. Two friends flank her, staring with wide eyes.

Caught, he pulls down his mask. “Ah, yes. Hello.”

“Oh my gosh! Hi-Hello, I’m wow…I’m sorry to bother you, but it’s really great to meet you!”

“Are you here about the Hero Talks series!?” one of her friends asks suddenly, quickly slapping a hand over her mouth after the loud outburst.

Well…they aren’t wrong, and maybe they can help him. “It’s…something like that.” He agrees carefully.

The three light up with smiles, two of them jumping up and down in excitement.

“Dr. Midoriya is going to be so excited, oh my gosh!”

“You know the professor?”

All three nod excitedly. “We’re all in his Intro to Combat Analysis lecture! He’s been gushing about this series since he got permission last semester!” the third student finally chimes in.

Perfect. “Do you know where I could find his office? I’m supposed to be meeting with him, but I’ve gotten a little turned around.”

The three jump to help direct him to the right building, gushing all the while over the professor and his classes. By the time they finally part ways, Shouto feels a little guilty about his plan to give the professor a piece of his mind over the whole thing and misleading them about his intention to join the series. They were nice girls after all.

Someone bumps into him before he reaches the building, sending him stumbling off the sidewalk.

“I’m so sorry,” a bright voice calls, gently pulling Shouto back onto the pavement. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Are you alright?”

Large, bright green eyes behind thin, wire-framed glasses give him a quick once-over, as if looking for injuries. The man meets his gaze through his sunglasses for a moment before glancing down at his wrist watch again. Somehow, he feels even more dazed meeting the man’s eyes than simply being booted off the sidewalk.

“…yes I’m fine, thank you.”

The man gives him a dazzling smile, flashing one dimple and further accentuating the smattering of freckles over his cheeks. “Good, good. Sorry again.” With a quick bow, the man is on his way again and headed into the building before them. The same building Shouto was headed.

Shaking off the strange feeling left behind, he waits a few moments, so as not to appear as if he was following the bright-eyed man, and goes inside. Along the wall there are signs directing visitors to particular room numbers or restrooms, and a bulletin board nearly as long as the wall is tall, full of posters advertising events happening around campus, and Musutafu, as well as ads looking for roommates or a reminder about signing up for a study abroad program. Right in the corner, as if attached as an after-thought, or a secret, there’s a small, handwritten flyer declaring the First Annual Hero Talks series could be counted as credits for Quirk or Hero Study students looking for an independent study if they met with Dr. Mirdoriya before the end of the term. Shouto almost takes the flyer before he realizes, realistically, that the students who might be interested in such a thing would probably benefit from it more than his brief curiosity needed to be sated.

Turning from the wall, he sets out for the stairs. The students instructed him to take the staircase on the far end of the east hall (the closest to the professor’s office, supposedly), to the third floor, where the professor’s office would be the third door on the left.

Midoriya Izuku is written clearly on a small sign hanging outside of the office. A small box sits under it, stuffed full of papers and folders that Shouto assumes are from students. The professor’s half-open door is covered in colorful posters and stickers – including, Shouto realizes, another copy of the flyer about the series and a poster of him, Pro-Hero Entropy, from his debut year. He looks away from his younger self and knocks on the door.

“Dr. Midoriya?” he calls, poking his head into the office.

The first thing he notices is that the hero-memorabilia on the door has absolutely nothing on what’s inside the office. More posters cover the entire front of the professor’s desk, and from the looks of it the top of his computer. Mixed between dozens of books on the shelves and filing cabinets filling two of the four walls are hero-figurines and framed pictures of heroes or preserved comic books. Even more posters and framed pictures cover the rest of the walls.

The second thing he notices, is that the broad-shouldered man dropping a beat-up, leather satchel to the ground besides the desk, is the same man who ran into him outside.

Dr. Midoriya whirls around, greeting him with another 100-watt smile. “Ah yes! Hello- oh! It’s you.”

“Ah, yes.” Shouto shuffles a little further into the office, he pulls his mask down under his chin and takes his sunglasses off, tucking them into the collar of his shirt. After a second's thought, he pulls off his cap as well, shoving the bill into his back pocket.

Dr. Midoriya’s jaw drops, his eyes comically wide, for approximately three seconds, before he comes back into himself, steeling his expression. His hands flutter nervously around his head for a moment and then he smiles again.

“Entropy! Welcome! I’m so sorry I did not recognize you before. Please, come in. Take a seat. Did you find your way through campus alright?”

Shouto gives a small bow, mumbling a thank you, as he comes further into the office to sit in one of the two small chairs before the desk. A poster of some of his old classmates is hung at knee-level, and even on paper, Momo's serious expression is judging him. Kyouka is egging him on.

Dr. Midoriya still stands behind his desk, staring at Shouto like he’s not sure what to make of him sitting in his office.

“Uh…Dr. Midoriya?”

The professor snaps back to life. “Yes! Sorry, sorry,” he sits down finally, pulling off his glasses and putting them to the side. “Welcome, again, to Musutafu University. And thank you for taking some time out of your busy schedule to consider our series! I really can’t tell you how thrilled I was to get your email.”

Shouto shifts in his seat. The professor talks with his hands, and every movement seems to pull the beige-colored cardigan he’s wearing even tighter around his biceps. Shouto isn’t usually one to speculate about others’ quirks unless in a fight, but he wonders now if the professor has some kind of strength-augmenting quirk – and if he does, how adept is he at using it if Shouto pisses him off? The potential of getting his ass kicked has never stopped Shouto before, but he can already hear the lecture he’d get from Momo, and probably Fuyumi, if he made the news for destroying a college building in a fight with a civilian professor.

Honestly, the property damage would probably be the least of their worries if he starts fighting with civilians.

“I know you don’t normally work with the media or make non-heroic work public appearances so I figured it was a long shot for you to even consider being a part of the series, but I really think you would make an amazing feature.”

Shouto shifts in his seat. Here it comes, he thinks. He really should have prepared what exactly he was going to say more, but he figured it would just come to him in the moment. Now, for some reason, he’s nervous. As if he would accidentally agree or something else equally absurd.

How this sweater had contained the man’s arms so far was a miracle, honestly.  

“…but quirks are mutating, or rather evolving, at an astonishing rate. Every generation we see quirks getting stronger than those of previous generations but more and more we are now seeing children with quirks that have little to no relation to their parent’s quirks, or a manifestation of some kind of combination of quirks. You gained attention early on for being one of the first heroes, or even hero-in-training, to have multiple quirks.

“Now that it’s becoming more common, hearing first hand from someone who has had to learn how to control and gain mastery over two separate quirks would be invaluable information, especially for many quirk-study students who will be working with parents and children who are going through this for the first time, and for those who may have some form of a combination quirk but did not have the benefit of a hero-course education that could teach them proper control.”

Wait…what?

“What?”

Dr. Midoriya startles, glancing between Shouto and something unseen in the air around him. “Oh…” he winces. “I’m sorry. Was I mumbling again? I apologize, sometimes my brain works faster than my mouth and I get carried away, where did I…never mind, I’ll start again…slower. So, when quirks first appeared-”

Shouto holds up a hand to stop the professor and his jaw snaps shut with an audible click. “You want me to talk about my quirk?”

“…Yes?”

“Not…my family?”

Dr. Midoriya lowers his arms to the top of his desk, folding his hands together. Shouto thinks it might be the first time he has seen him completely still since they first ran into each other outside.

Now that they’re closer, and his hands aren’t moving, Shouto can also see surprisingly large scars running over the professor’s fingers and onto the backs of his hands. Those definitely don’t look like something you would get as a teacher. At least not as a normal, non-hero course teacher.

“Do you want to talk about your family?”

He shifts awkwardly in his seat. The professor’s serious attention directed all at him is suddenly unnerving somehow. “Well, no, I don’t.”

Dr. Midoriya nods, once. “Okay.” A pause. “Honestly, I was surprised to even hear you ask, I hadn’t considered broaching the topic for something like this.”

“You didn’t?” he asks incredulously.

Dr. Midoriya pins him with an expression he can’t interpret but inexplicably reminds him of Aizawa back in high school when he was frustrated with students or a lesson or even a fellow teacher. Especially All Might.

“Entropy, you have made it very clear in the past that you have no interest in talking about what happened to your family publicly. And that is your right. No one is owed anything about your personal life. If you suddenly decided you wanted to talk about what happened, and you wanted to use the Hero Talks series as your platform, you would be more than welcome to do so. Honestly, the publicity from that one lecture alone would probably be enough to guarantee the university allowing this series again in the future. But that is not why I asked you to be a part of it. You want to keep your private affairs private, and I respect that. I picked heroes who I knew the public would be interested in hearing from, but also who would have the most helpful information to offer to the students who are studying these topics, and, frankly, they would learn far more hearing about your quirk than your…homelife.”

“I…I wouldn’t know what to talk about.” Shouto admits awkwardly.

Dr. Midoriya smiles softly. “That’s okay. I can give you some general topics to consider, or more specific questions to think about as main points if that would be more helpful. Let me see…” he turns around in his chair, shifting to the side, and Shouto can see the shelves just under the view of the desk are stuffed full of identical notebooks, each with a carefully penned number on the binding. The professor pulls one out and flips through it. Almost every page is crammed with scrawling handwriting, some written sideways or upside down, squeezed into every blank space he could find. The slightly-less busy pages have drawings of heroes or costumes or diagrams Shouto can’t interpret from the quick, upside-down glance he gets of them.

From his seat Shouto could see there were, at least, two shelves of these notebooks. Were they all like that?

Finally, the professor finds what he’s looking for with a satisfied hum. He sets the notebook on the desk, turning it so Shouto can see. The page is marginally less chaotic than others he saw. At the top, in surprisingly neat handwriting and underlined three times, it reads: Questions for Multiple-Quirk Usage (Entropy).

The rest of the page is made up of dozens of questions about his quirk. Some, Shouto imagines, are just general questions for anyone with multiple quirks to consider (Do you activate both quirks the same way?  Can you use them both simultaneously?) and get progressively tailored to questions about his quirk, like if there are places he can’t use one quirk or the other and the temperature ranges of his fire and ice, if particular environmental factors affect his ability to use either of them.

“Uh…”

Dr. Midoriya scratches the back of his head sheepishly. He hides a nervous laugh with a cough before taking the notebook back and closing it. The light isn’t strong in the office, but Shouto is positive the professor is blushing.

“Of course, if a list of topics or questions is something you would be interested in, I can provide you with a neater – and shorter – list. This was just a-a demonstration that there is a lot to consider when it comes to multiple quirks. Of course, not all of that would be relevant for a lecture, and admittedly some are just personal curiosities, but…anyways,” he clears his throat. “I’m assuming if you came here thinking I was going to ask about your family…you don’t actually want to be a part of the series.”

Shouto crosses his arms over his chest, sitting back in his chair. Does he want to be a part of a public lecture series? No. But now he is undeniably curious about this professor and how the hell his brain works.

“Do you have a notebook page like that for every hero?”

“Every hero? That would be impossible…well maybe not impossible-” Shouto raises a brow and the professor bites his tongue. “Maybe…most Japanese heroes since…early Silver Age and well-known international heroes? And any American heroes who would have overlapped with All Might’s time either learning or working in America.”

“How long have you been making those?”

He looks down a little wistfully at the question, thumbing gently at the corner of the page. “I was probably four or five when I started my first one,” he admits with a quiet laugh. “None that are here are quite that old, though.”

Shouto has…so many questions.

There’s a quiet buzz of the professor’s phone going off. He excuses himself for a moment and pulls the cell out of his pocket. His case has the design of All Might’s Golden Age costume.

“I’m sorry, Entropy, I have another meeting and I teach a class after so I can’t talk much longer today.”

“I should be getting going anyways.” Shouto says, standing up and Dr. Midoriya shoots out of his chair.

“Right, yes, of course. I’m sorry we probably took up more of your time than you meant to. Thank you for coming in, it was an honor to speak with you.”

Shouto feels like “honor” is a bit much, he didn’t really even say much at all, and he came here with rather rude intentions but, he doesn’t really know how to argue with the professor’s enthusiasm.

His brain and his good sense, and the small bit of self-preservation he has left, all tell him to keep going, to accept the professor’s gracious dismissal and move on, but he finds himself hesitating in the doorway anyways.

“Uh…Entropy? Is everything alright?” Dr. Midoriya asks, looking at him curiously.

Oh hell.

“If you send me the list, of topics…I’ll think about it.”

Dr. Midoriya’s entire being lights up. “Really?”

Oh, he was really going to regret this.

“…Yes.”

“Thank you! I will forward it to you right away!” He drops into a bow so deep, so quickly, he slams his head into the top of the desk.

Both of them freeze at the resounding crack that echoes in the small room. Shouto takes a step back into the office, already reaching for the professor.

“Are you alright?”

Dr. Midoriya straightens, looking a little dazed but mostly just embarrassed. There’s a bright red mark on his forehead. “Oh my God.” He whispers.

Shouto is surprised, and a little ashamed, by how hard it is to keep himself from laughing at the horrified expression. “Dr. Midoriya, are you-”

The desk gives a sudden, heaving creak and tips sideways. The two watch helplessly as the desk collapses, sending the clutter on top flying across the floor.

Dr. Midoriya makes a strangled noise, covering his face with his hands. “Not again.”

Again?

There are rushed footsteps outside and a young woman with six eyes and lavender hair piled in a high bun peeks her head in through the half-open door. “Dr. Midoriya, did you break something again?”

“I’m sorry Kobayashi.” He bows his head again, though not nearly as low this time, and keeps his face covered.

Kobayashi tuts disapprovingly. “I’ll call for another,” she says, already turning on her heel to leave.

“Thank you, Kobayashi.”

Shouto bends down to gather some of the papers that scattered around his feet. Dr. Midoriya lowers his hands, immediately stumbling over the mess when he sees Shouto cleaning.

“Please Entropy, thank you, but that’s not necessary.”

“It’s fine,” he waves off the worries. “Where would you like these things?”

“Uh,” Dr. Midoriya looks around the office for a moment. “Here, thank you.” Taking the papers from him he makes a neat pile on his un-damaged desk chair.

It’s quick work for the two of them to straighten up the rest of the room, though the professor takes a moment to mourn his cracked eyeglasses, and then again when he realizes some of the posters were damaged by the desk’s fall.

“Thank you again, Entropy. I’m so sorry about all the trouble.”

“It’s…fine.” Shouto says dumbly. “Well I should…go, now.”

“Yes, of course! I’m sorry about taking up even more of your time. Thank you for coming in.”

Before Shouto can reply, two new people arrive, knocking once before they shuffle into the office. Shouto moves further into the room, out of the way, as they collect the broken desk and carry it out of the room.

For a moment, they stand in silence, Shouto coming up with about a hundred more questions about the professor, while Dr. Midoriya stands nearby, twisting his hands together in embarrassment. Finally, his common-sense kicks in enough that after another short good-bye, Shouto manages to walk himself out of the office and down the stairs without doing anything else stupid or impulsive.

He passes someone on his way to the doors, so focused on getting out of the building that he doesn’t notice until they call his name.

He recognizes the wild purple hair and slouched stance of the man approaching him, but nearly dismisses the similarities on principle.

“Shinso? Since when do you come out while the sun’s still up?” He asks.

Ignoring the jab, Shinso pulls off a pair of sunglasses and looks him up and down. Despite also being a part of U.A.’s hero course in high school, Shinso promptly went underground after graduation and has been working in the shadows long enough that only some other pros and hardcore hero-fans are able to recognize him out of costume. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…I had a meeting with a professor,” he admits.

Shouto doesn’t know Shinso well, but he swears he looks surprised by the admission.

And then he laughs. “I can’t believe he actually did it. Good for him.”

Shouto isn’t totally sure he heard him correctly, but when he asks, Shinso makes an expression he can’t figure out and changes the subject.

“I’ll see you later, Todoroki.” He says with a wave.                                                                         

Shouto waves back, unsure of what to make of the interaction, and watches as Shinso disappears up the same stairs he just descended.

Shoving the strange interaction out of his head, he pushes open the doors and steps outside.

Then he calls Kyouka.

She picks up after two rings. “Did you make him cry?”

He can hear Momo scold her from the background.

“No, but I think I fucked up.”

Kyouka is quiet for a moment but based on the noise he hears in the background, he thinks she’s moving further away from Momo. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter. “Fucked up how? Like news crews are coming to report the damage and you might be going to jail for beating up an old, civilian professor-fucked up?”

Faintly, Shouto wonders what it says about him that both he and Kyouka assumed the worst-case scenario for this meeting was him fighting with a civilian.